


Night Watch

by SolarPoweredFlashlight



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Consensual Kink, F/F, Threesome - F/F/F, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarPoweredFlashlight/pseuds/SolarPoweredFlashlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just because Ashe and Sejuani have been ruling the Freljord as romantic partners for several years now doesn't mean they don't like to spice things up in the bedroom now and then - and Quinn just happens to be the perfect candidate for Ashe's newest scheme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Watch

There’s something wicked in the Queen of the Freljord’s smile as she catches Quinn’s eye.

“Come,” Ashe commands, and Quinn can only follow.

The halls of the castle in Rakelstake are warm. Chilly, of course, by Demacian standards, but blissfully hot compared to the peerless cold of the untameable air outside its thick walls.

A different kind of warmth curls in Quinn’s stomach at Ashe’s tone.

Ashe leads her past several sets of posted guards, through several sets of doors, and then –

They come into a room that Quinn’s been in, once before, years ago. She remembers it vividly, the massive fireplace piled high with crackling firewood, the elegant bed, its sturdy posters and her wrists bound to them with expertly crafted leather –

She was so young, then. The Freljord divided, and still a diplomatic mystery to her superiors in Demacia. A night with her back against the furs of Queen Ashe’s bed, why, it was lucky happenstance and regal whim.

She’s always looked back on it fondly. And now, standing in Ashe’s bedchamber and watching her cross the room to take Warlord Sejuani’s face in her hands and kiss her hungrily – as if Quinn isn’t even there – she recalls it all with the vivid detail that has made her such an excellent scout.

Ashe presses herself to her consort, her lover, her queen, and Quinn fights the urge to devour them with her eyes. She’s had the pleasure of creating interesting memories with Ashe, once upon a time, but never Sejuani. Her gaze greedily captures views of the rugged woman she’s never had access to before; Sejuani’s knuckles going pale as they clutch at the fabric between her fingers and Ashe’s lower back, Sejuani’s thick brows furrowing very slightly and eyes shutting as she kisses Ashe, Sejuani’s throat catching the light of the candle on the bedside table, the very shadows intimate and personal.

Quinn snatches these tidbits as a bird plucks tender fat moths from the sky, a scattering of small bounties that nourishes her through and through. What this evening has in store for her, she’s decidedly less certain of than she was an hour ago, but this… this is good. She likes this.

And Ashe knows, too. Those years ago when the Queen took her to bed, it wasn’t instinct that had her tie Quinn down, but accurate intel. They’d discussed beforehand a few of Quinn’s particular pleasures – the conversation was very much part of the foreplay, at the time.

She doesn’t think a mind as sharp as this woman’s has forgotten Quinn confessing to a fondness for watching.

No, Quinn thinks, as Ashe pulls away from Sejuani and turns her eyes back to the guest in the room, a small smirk threatening at the corner of her elegant lips. She hasn’t forgotten.

“Be a good girl,” Ashe intones, rich promise and dark threat mingling in her royal voice, “and shut the door.”

Lust spikes hard through Quinn’s entire body. She’s always been prone to playful fighting, a bit of artificial resistance to spice up the eventual surrender, but every hair on her body and every pulse of her heart screams _yes_ to that suggestion.

She goes to the door, and shuts it.

“Very good,” says Ashe.

Sejuani is silent, although there’s a smile in her eyes and her body language is – hm. Interesting.

Quinn feels the beginnings of her own little smirk threatening. The Warlord of the Ironspike Mountains, Sejuani the Conqueror, sends a little glance at her lover – checking in, waiting, if Quinn’s observation is accurate (it always is), for orders.

Sejuani is giving Ashe control tonight. For all her swagger, for all her physical strength, she’s deferring to Ashe with every little clue in her mannerisms.

Could this get any better? This is fuel for a month’s worth of fantasies.

“Come here,” Ashe says, and the order is another jolt down Quinn’s spine. The Queen peels herself away from her lover and gestures Quinn to a chair. The chair, she has already noticed, is placed near the foot of the bed, pointing towards it. “Sit.”

Quinn swallows. Below her her feet move of what would almost seem like their own will, if Quinn didn’t feel herself filled up to bursting with how very much she wants this. She knows those feet are moving on the power of her own desires.

She goes to the seat and sits, her heart thumping loudly in her chest and louder still in her groin.

“So very well behaved,” Ashe purrs, and every syllable is like a stroke of blissful torment between Quinn’s legs. “But being good won’t be enough, to be allowed to touch.” While Quinn watches, Ashe snakes a hand up to the back of Sejuani’s head, grips a fistful of pale, short hair. Sejuani _whimpers_ , and Quinn feels pinpricks rush along her skin urgently at the sound. Ashe tugs Sejuani’s head down, towards her face, and presses a slow, soft, mouthy kiss to the side of the woman’s neck.

Sejuani meets Quinn’s eyes; her icy gaze burns with untold things. That look, somewhere between the glazed blankness of total surrender and the fierce stare of smug pride, is another moment Quinn will both save and savor.

Ashe pulls her lips away from Sejuani and looks back over, intensity in every line of her limbs, a juxtaposition against the slack obedience of her warlord queen.

“You _do_ want to be allowed to touch, don’t you girl?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Quinn breathes, feeling like her arms and legs are made of solid stone, for all that she’s incapable of moving an inch out of this seat right now.

“Yes what?” Ashe asks sharply.

“Yes, my Queen,” Quinn corrects, and takes pleasure in seeing how the term of address makes Ashe flicker slightly, her own thrill at the scenario briefly exposed. Ashe isn’t the only one who can retain bits of trivia about the things a lover past enjoyed.

Ashe releases her hold on Sejuani’s hair, and Sejuani straightens slowly, almost reluctantly. Quinn eyes Sejuani and makes little effort to conceal her hunger. She would be all too happy to get to touch that legend of a woman.

“You won’t be touching anybody,” Ashe says, and Quinn nearly groans. “Your job is to watch.”

A shudder passes through her. Fuck. Fuck yes.

The denial is almost part of what makes this so overwhelmingly hot.

Ashe smirks at her, a full smirk now, indulgent and self-satisfied. “Get the restraints, love,” she says to Sejuani, stroking an idle brush of fingertips down a muscular arm.

Unable to help herself, Quinn whines – a tortured keen high in her throat. She grips her hands tight around the arms of the chair, as if squeezing the unyielding piece of furniture will displace some of her increasingly desperate arousal.

“That better not have been a complaint,” Ashe chuckles, striding towards Quinn where she sits immobilized in her assigned spot.

“It might have been,” Quinn mutters impishly, casting her eyes away from Ashe.

“If you’re hoping that mouthing off will get you punished, I can promise you that it will,” Ashe says, low and threatening, and the flames crackle higher and higher in Quinn’s core, “and that the punishment absolutely won’t involve you being touched in any way, pleasurable _or_ painful.”

Quinn huffs a horrified breath. Ruthless, Ashe is absolutely ruthless.

Her eyes turn to Sejuani, returning from her brief jaunt across the room with an armful of leather. Fear, erotic, excited fear, gnaws through Quinn.

“There’s a good girl, sweetheart,” Ashe murmurs to Sejuani, pulling her attention away from Quinn briefly as the woman appears at her elbow. “And where do you belong?”

Sejuani exhales her own shuddering breath. Ashe has a hell of a presence. And then she lowers herself slowly to her knees.

“At your feet, my Queen,” she murmurs, her voice – a powerful, growly baritone that Quinn has heard lead men to battle - cracking slightly.

“Good girl,” Ashe says, and the Quinn is certain she gets just as much of a high from hearing those words as Sejuani does, even if she isn’t the intended recipient. She watches as Ashe strokes Sejuani’s face, her knuckles brushing along her strong jaw. It’s like she’s invaded a private moment, and that sense that she isn’t supposed to be seeing this and yet _is_ – shit, she’s glad Ashe remembered her saying she’s into this. Tonight is going to be amazing.

Although if they actually don’t let her touch anybody she’ll be going back to her guest room _so_ tightly wound at the end of the night.

Ashe reaches into Sejuani’s pile of jangling metal and leather, picking out what she wants and meeting Quinn’s eyes again. Quinn’s breath catches in her throat, and involuntarily she feels her back press a little harder into the chair. She can’t look away from Ashe, can’t break the stare. Helpless, vulnerable, pinned in place with nothing but a sharp, predatory look from this peerless woman.

“Is your safeword still ‘grounded’?” Ashe asks.

Quinn inhales and nods, impressed by the length of Ashe’s memory.

“Speak up,” Ashe purrs dangerously.

“Yes,” Quinn answers quickly, wishing she dared to break eye contact, wanting so badly to look at the restraints Ashe is holding as she leans in close. “Yes, my Queen.”

“Good girl. You’re free to use your safeword any time you aren’t comfortable.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Quinn says, looking up at Ashe as she looms over her, groin throbbing with desire. She doesn’t believe for an instant that she’ll want to put an end to anything that’s about to happen.

Ashe looks down and in doing so frees Quinn to do the same. She steals one quick glance at Sejuani, still on her knees, and then watches as Ashe takes her wrist and slides her entire hand into an encompassing, fingerless mitt of leather that she buckles closed at the wrist. The does the same to the other one, and a pinch of genuine fear, the secret ingredient to roaring, potent, pure arousal, strikes Quinn’s heart. With her hands rendered useless like this, she couldn’t take her own cuffs off if she wanted to.

She makes a mental note to ask Ashe in the morning who she has make these. She should invest in some.

With a few deft movements, Ashe has Quinn’s wristcuffs attached to the arms of the chair with a long, narrow strap that loops around the arm and buckles back into the cuff. Quinn gives them an experimental tug – the hold is plenty sturdy. There’s no chance of her breaking free.

She feels a rush of heady thrill as it occurs to her these were likely designed for Sejuani.

Ashe returns to the hoard of leather gear cradled dutifully in Sejuani’s arms, and returns with three simple belts, one significantly longer than the other two. The two shorter ones soon bind her ankles to the legs of the chair, and then the third one she fixes around Quinn’s waist and around the back of the chair.

“You had this planned,” Quinn remarks playfully, with the part of her mind not yet totally in the thrall of obedience.

Ashe smiles at her, her face mere inches away. Quinn could lean in and kiss her, if she dared. With the way the Queen of the Freljord is looking at her, she wouldn’t dream of it.

She’s gotta behave herself if she has any aspirations of being touched at all tonight, after all.

“Of course,” Ashe says, at last. Two words, and Quinn is flooded with a new, reeling hunger for Ashe. How could she not? She’s gorgeous, she’s clever, she’s wicked in all the right ways. The idea of Ashe and Sejuani planning this out, discussing the idea of this, of _her_ – Quinn would squirm in her seat if she weren’t being so closely scrutinized by the mastermind of this situation.

“Cozy?” Ashe asks, clearly pleased with herself.

Quinn swallows, pulls a bit at her wrists, her feet. She’s completely, utterly stuck in this chair for real. She couldn’t escape even if she put her mind to it.

“Yes, my Queen,” she says. Get on with it! Get to the good stuff!!

Ashe chuckles a single, smug little laugh, and then turns her back on Quinn.

“And now for you, my dear,” she says to Sejuani, and Quinn watches a whole-body tremble go through Sejuani at the tone. “My sweet creature. Are you going to behave?”

“Yes, my Queen,” Sejuani whispers, an echo of Quinn’s words with layer upon layer of meaning added. Years of mutual desire denied for the sake of pride and politics, years of believing a sham of a marriage, years of partnership and slowly earned trust – she has all of Quinn’s eagerness, but a deeper earnestness than anything she imagines herself ever being capable of.

They love each other, Quinn observes. She could see it before, clear as a bonfire in an open plain on a dark night. Now it’s obvious in a different kind of way.

“Arms behind your back. Sit straight. Chest out,” Ashe snaps, and Sejuani obeys. With hedonistic abandon, Quinn captures more sights to store away in her memory. The slight part of Sejuani’s lips as she relaxes into Ashe’s control. The roll of Ashe’s hips as she saunters around and behind her lover. The rapid rise and fall of that great warrior’s chest as the excitement takes hold.

Fuck, Quinn wants to touch her. Wants to touch both of them. Wants to be touched by both of them, either of them. And she absolutely cannot. She’s genuinely bound here.

That reality purrs a wonderful, snarling heat up her limbs, coils tightly at her core.

Like a silent beast of prey, Ashe pads around Sejuani. Her hands find a clasp here, unlace a knot there, and soon she’s pulling Sejuani’s fur overshirt free, exposing the cloth tunic beneath. She tosses the shirt to the side, takes a fistful of the fabric of the tunic.

“Arms up,” Ashe murmurs sternly, and Sejuani obeys.

Quinn’s mouth goes dry as Ashe pulls the tunic up over Sejuani’s head, exposing more of her skin than Quinn ever thought she’d have the pleasure of seeing. Like a nearly drowned man gulping in breaths of air, she inhales great samples of Sejuani’s bared torso. Her collar bone, defined - her biceps, muscles visible even with her arms relaxed - her breasts, average on the side of smaller, nipples dark and already alert – her stomach, muscular, and oh, oh fuck – a perfect trail of hair starting at her navel and leading down and into her breeches.

She licks her lips, envisions pressing them to that trail.

“She likes what she sees,” Ashe laughs, leaning in to speak the taunting words directly into Sejuani’s ear. “And what about you, sweetheart? You like to be seen, don’t you? Like to be exposed, like this.” Ashe’s hand comes slyly around Sejuani’s throat, a thumb on one side of her jaw and a forefinger on the other, pressing her head up, forcing her back to arch, her chest to jut out.

On display.

For her.

Quinn makes no pretense. She stares, takes it all in, every curve, every edge, every scar, every hair.

“Hmmm?” Ashe asks, bringing her other hand around to stroke the underside of one of Sejuani’s breasts. Sejuani exhales shakily, closes her eyes.

“Yes, my Queen,” she mutters.

“Yes what?”

Sejuani makes a noise of torment. Lightning fast, Ashe seizes her nipple between finger and thumb and pinches hard. Sejuani flinches slightly and trembles, breathing faster, but holds her pose.

“I want to hear you say it,” Ashe growls.

“Yes,” Sejuani pants, “I like – I like to be – I like to be seen,”

“That’s better.” Ashe’s hand relaxes, frees Sejuani’s poor tit. Quinn regards it hungrily. “I think you more than just like it,” Ashe says, running her fingers through Sejuani’s hair, flicking her eyes in Quinn’s direction, smirking. Like she’s sharing an inside joke, laughing at an unspoken punchline.

Quinn’s eyes are pulled to Sejuani’s throat as she swallows heavily.

“Spread your legs,” Ashe orders, and Sejuani obeys. Kneeling still, she shuffles her thighs apart.

Quinn’s attention darts lower, studying with fleeting, spastic glances, trying to take in everything she possibly can. That trail of hair…

Standing behind Sejuani, Ashe bends down, her long hair falling over her shoulder and brushing Sejuani’s collarbone. Her hand meanders down, and Quinn watches its progress advance lower and lower, fingertips slipping beneath the top edge of her breeches. Quinn glances up again, to take in the expression on Sejuani’s face – that knife’s edge tension, that consummate self-control, that guileless longing.

Ashe’s knuckles disappear below the line of Sejuani’s pants, and not a moment later Sejuani tenses up and chokes down a wonderfully animal noise. Quinn can’t see what’s going on beneath the fabric, but she can certainly imagine. Sejuani jerks very slightly, straightens and throws her shoulders back with a deliberate, tense movement.

“Such a good girl,” Ashe murmurs, “you can’t hide how much you enjoy this. Not from me.”

Sejuani makes another noise, an exhaled, wordless plea.

Ashe’s hand pulls back out from Sejuani’s breeches and Quinn stares covetously at the slick, glistening fingers that emerge. Quinn finds herself biting her lower lip, feeling more thrilled than ever to be a piece in this game. Seeing for herself just how hot this makes Sejuani is – it’s indescribable. Goosebumps rush down her shoulders, along her arms. She feels so heavy in this chair, still anchored by the weight of Ashe’s unspoken command to stay.

“You didn’t think you could hide it from me, did you?” Ashe purrs, with attention only for Sejuani at the moment. Below her, the woman shudders.

“No, my Queen.”

“Do I need to remind you what happens when you hold things back from me?”

“I – “ Sejuani splutters, flustered by the dizzying power of Ashe’s voice and her own apparent arousal.

“You…?”

“I – I’m sorry, my Queen.”

“You’re sorry?” Cruel, toneless. Perhaps mildly amused. All part of the game, of course, but Quinn finds herself buying into it, crumbling to the cold heartlessness and feeling all of her being ache to be good, to prove herself, to bring the warmth of approval back into that voice. “If you’re sorry, that means you know you’ve done something wrong. And when you’ve done something wrong, you deserve to be punished.” Ashe strokes her knuckles against Sejuani’s cheek. “Don’t you dear?”

Sejuani’s breathing is definitely getting faster.

“Yes my Queen,” she whispers, a tiny gasp of words.

“Stay,” Ashe commands, and draws her hand away from Sejuani. Sejuani can’t see what Ashe is up to, with the way that she’s facing, but Quinn can. Ashe goes to the chest of drawers near the bed and starts pulling out things. One wrist cuff – the regular kind, and not the fully enclosed mitt that Quinn has on – a leather flogger, a second cuff. Quinn smiles ever so slightly, thinking that Sejuani will be able to hear the jingle of the buckles, turning her eyes to her to observe the deep, heavy way her chest – her naked chest, what a glorious sight – rises and falls.

“Wrists,” Ashe says sharply as she returns with her toys, tossing the flogger on the end of the bed. Quick as a startled rabbit, Sejuani pulls her hands out from behind her back, presents her wrists, and bows her head low. It seems like a trained pose – Quinn delights in imagining the process of Ashe conditioning that immediate response into her.

Ashe cuffs each of Sejuani’s wrists, pausing when she’s done to play with her lover’s short hair.

“You know how to behave yourself, darling,” she says, soft and deadly, loving and merciless.

“Yes, my Queen,” breathes Sejuani in reply.

“Then you know I expect you’ll be very, very good for me.”

“Yes,” Sejuani says, exaltation in the soft, yielding hiss of the word. Ashe’s grip goes ruthlessly tight in Sejuani’s hair. “My Queen,” she adds, quickly, a pained note in her gasp. The hand releases, Sejuani catches her breath.

“Come, girl,” Ashe says, walking to the end of the four-poster bed, which Quinn’s chair is positioned directly in front of. Yes, good, Quinn thinks greedily, come closer so I can see everything better.

Ashe catches her eye and smirks at her, and it hits Quinn like an electric shock. Suddenly she remembers anew that Sejuani isn’t the only one bound, feels the leather snug against her wrists and torso and ankles with a sharp awareness. Here as a guest, yes, but also here as a toy, an object to be used just as much as the flogger will be.

So much about this is pushing all of Quinn’s buttons.

“Face the bed,” Ashe commands, attention back on Sejuani. “Arms up for me, dear.”

And only now does Quinn see it. Hah, clever! Disguised in the elaborate carvings of the wooden posts are slots for the attachment loop of the cuffs to go through, placed at the perfect height to hold Sejuani’s arms spread apart and above her head, one wrist to each post. Those weren’t there the last time Quinn was in this bedroom.

Ashe strings Sejuani up by her wrists, and from four paces away Quinn sits and watches, admiring the lean muscle of the boar-rider’s back. Not to mention that even with her breeches still on, having unspoken permission to stare shamelessly at Queen Sejuani’s ass is definitely a boon.

“We’re going to start you with forty,” Ashe says softly. She’s turned away from Quinn, a hand on Sejuani’s thigh, mouth against the back of Sejuani’s neck, but Quinn can hear the smirk even if she can’t see it. Sejuani takes a deep breath and exhales through her mouth; Quinn watches her back seem to expand with the immensity of the motion.

“Yes, my Queen,” she says, fully surrendered to the punishment for the most delightfully contrived of infractions. Any opportunity to bring down the lash, it would seem. Knowing Ashe and her style of dominance, Quinn has no doubt she does it this way because Sejuani gets off on it.

As Ashe walks back around the edge of the massive bed to pick up the previously discarded flogger, Quinn eyeballs her lustily. She oozes a femininity that Sejuani lacks; in her element here, it’s infinitely more serpentine and deliberately measured in its elegance than it is in public, where she’s a fair and even-tempered ruler and diplomat. It would almost be theatrical, if it weren’t so damn effective at piercing Quinn’s guard and making her _want_.

It’s funny, Quinn remembers her night with Ashe with perfect visual clarity, but she’d forgotten the intensity of what it was like to be lost in her carnal, unthinking _longing_ for her.

Ashe strolls back to Sejuani, stretched out and exposed, tense and waiting. Quinn feels like she might as well be the one strung out between the bedposts, anticipating that first strike with dread and desire.

From this perspective, though, she can devour details she wouldn’t have seen otherwise – the loose, confident way Ashe’s strong, delicate fingers grasp the handle as she gets into position, for one. The fluid movement of her arm as she strikes. The way Sejuani’s whole body arches.

Oh fuck, and the _noises_. The sights are incredible enough on their own, but sitting here listening to Sejuani pant and groan and whimper and gasp through the forty strikes –

If Quinn was turned on before, she’s soaked now.

Ashe wields the flogger with a brutal skill at odds with her sultry, feminine façade in the most beautiful possible way. She alternates the pace and intensity with an attentiveness to her lover’s reactions, pushing her to the edge of her endurance without taking her past the breaking point.

Quinn is definitely squirming in her seat by the time Ashe lets the leather tails crack against Sejuani’s reddened skin for the final time.

Sejuani is breathing hard, limbs slack. Quinn wishes she could see her face right now.

“Such a good girl,” Ashe whispers, pressing her front to Sejuani’s back, pressing her lips to Sejuani’s livid skin. Sejuani whimpers – she seems to have sunk even deeper into that blissful oblivion of surrender, after that lashing. The sound evokes an answering hunger in Quinn, an echo of the sentiment and a growling, predatory response to that lovely vulnerability.

She imagines the power trip of holding the leash of this incredible woman, how flattering and thrilling it would be to give an order and have her obey unthinking.

Ashe reaches around to the front of Sejuani’s hips. Quinn curses her viewpoint, now – she can’t tell what Ashe is doing.

Ah, but it becomes clear soon enough, when the fabric around her waist goes slack and then Ashe pulls away to wiggle the breeches down her legs. As Sejuani’s ass and thighs come into view inch by inch, Quinn gives a thankful prayer to any deity listening who might’ve been even tangentially responsible for this night.

Once Ashe works the heap of rumpled clothing – both pants and underpants dragged down together, it would seem – over and off of Sejuani’s feet, Sejuani’s totally naked. Finally, thinks Quinn, relishing the sight, swallowing hard at her own arousal. Ashe steps aside deliberately, giving Quinn the best possible view, and strokes a hand possessively up and down Sejuani’s hip. She flicks a look over at Quinn, and then reaches to undo the straps keeping Sejuani’s hands bound to the posters.

“Turn around,” she says to Sejuani, “I want you to see the way she’s looking at you.”

Sejuani responds to this with another sound like she’s been struck by the flogger a forty-first time, and the reaction sends the fire inside of Quinn crackling ever higher. After this brief moment of stunned arousal Sejuani obeys the command and turns around.

To Quinn’s delight, Sejuani’s eyes are rooted on the floor, embarrassed. There’s something wickedly pleasurable about someone squirming under her attention.

“Look up at her,” Ashe commands firmly. With some reluctance – and oh, the reluctance only makes it hotter – Sejuani meets Quinn’s eyes.

Quinn can’t help it. She smirks.

Sejuani’s mouth hardens into a firm line, as if she’s trying to school her expression – fighting hard against the need to look away, Quinn imagines. The vulnerability in her eyes, though. Quinn longs to touch her, to reassure her, to remind her that she isn’t the only one utterly stripped bare of dignity when Ashe utters a command.

“Now tell me,” Ashe says, sheer inescapable demand in her tone, “how much you like this. And remember what happens when you’re less than totally honest.”

Sejuani swallows, shuts her eyes, furrows her brow. She’s all but panting.

“So much, my Queen,” she whispers, barely audible.

“She can see it now, clear as day,” Ashe says, stroking her hand against the subtle jut of a hip bone, and like magic the words direct Quinn’s attention down between Sejuani’s legs, where a long line of natural lubrication catches the light of the candle, a winking betrayal from Sejuani’s own body of the state of her innermost appetites.

The sight makes Quinn inhale sharply. Fuck, she loves women. This is definitely a view she’s committing to memory.

She looks up again, and Sejuani is biting her lower lip. She’s blushing, and the blush goes from her temples down to just above her stomach. Her stomach where the trail starts. Shit Quinn hopes she gets to get up and personal with those particular four inches of Sejuani’s body.

“Oh, I know,” Ashe says, positioning herself behind Sejuani so that she can run her hands up and down her torso without obscuring Quinn’s line of sight, “I know how much you’re enjoying being on display. And you should enjoy it. You’re gorgeous.” Those hands, up, down, up, down, so smooth, so threatening. “And you’re _mine_.”

Sejuani inhales a shaky breath.

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Say it.”

“I’m yours, my Queen.”

“That’s right. Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you, my Queen.”

The ritualistic exchange makes Quinn’s insides flutter at the privilege of getting to be involved in it, if only as an observer. If she were in Sejuani’s place – and oh, she’s having an easy time fantasizing about what it might be like to be in her place – being made to utter those words would be dragging her further down into the unthinking freedom of surrender. Watching Sejuani’s expression, her eyes glassy with unrestrained arousal, Quinn feels pretty sure that’s the case.

And then, with Quinn watching, Ashe slides her hands up to Sejuani’s breasts, taking a nipple in each between thumb and forefinger. Sejuani inhales sharply, becoming rigid, and the sudden tautness makes the muscles of her stomach and thighs stand out brilliantly in the candlelight. Ashe doesn’t slow down, pressing biting, hungry kisses to the side of Sejuani’s neck, teasing with her fingers.

Quinn can see Sejuani sinking into it, losing herself to the pleasure of her Queen’s touch. Again, the parted lips, the slight, soundless gasp. She’s learning what Sejuani looks like in the throes of heated foreplay and Quinn is absolutely storing every tidbit of it, memorizing her from shoulders to ankles in case this is her one and only opportunity to experience her like this.

Although it’s hard to see, with Sejuani’s body between Quinn and Ashe, she can make out that Ashe has started grinding her hips up against Sejuani’s ass as she touches her breasts and kisses her neck, bites her ears, traces brief patterns against sensitive skin with the tip of her tongue.

Quinn’s eyes dart down again; the glistening line between Sejuani’s legs seems to have gotten longer. Fuck, she’d love to introduce herself to that thick patch of hair face-first. Poor Sejuani is so turned on.

Poor me, Quinn thinks, bucking a little bit against her own restraints, _I’m_ so turned on.

What she wouldn’t give to have Ashe touch her the way she’s touching Sejuani.

“On your knees,” Ashe says, suddenly retracting that touch, and Sejuani obeys without hesitation. “Good girl.”

Then Ashe goes back to the drawers, and returns with another finely made contraption of leather, metal and – ah. That’s a rubber bit.

Quinn has always had a hard time turning off her brain; she can’t help but note that the gag, with its rubber, must have been imported from either Piltover or Zaun. The former, she’d imagine.

Not that the thought lingers long in Quinn’s mind as she watches Ashe bring the gag where Sejuani can see it, watches Sejuani’s pupils dilate, watches a slight, eager stiffness come to Sejuani’s body.

“Open,” Ashe says, and Sejuani takes a deep breath and opens her mouth wide, clutching her own elbows hard behind her back. The sight is incredible – another one for Quinn to fix in her mind, quickly grabbing the whole picture – Sejuani, on her knees, hands behind her back, naked, proud bare chest pushed out, muscular core taut, mouth open and the gag incoming.

Ashe presses the bit between her teeth and Sejuani’s eyes flutter closed with a soft exhale. Her Queen’s nimble hands bring the straps behind her head and buckle them tight, holding the gag firmly in her mouth.

And then Ashe grabs a fistful of Sejuani’s hair and hauls hard, dragging her to her feet and over to the bed with a blank, businesslike expression. Sejuani makes a throaty noise at the pain, and the way the gag distorts it sends another jolt of arousal to Quinn’s lower half. Ashe all but throws Sejuani to the mattress, and with her on the bed on her hands and knees, Quinn gets a good look at her from behind, an intimate view at eye level. Sejuani must feel so exposed right now.

Quinn chews her lip and swallows, pressing her thighs together and grinding ever so slightly against the seat of the chair. She’s unbelievably horny. She just wishes she could touch herself.

“On your back,” Ashe growls with animal menace, standing beside the bed. Sejuani flips over quickly, whining through the gag, fingers curling, on the verge of gripping at the sheets. Her eyes flick down towards her feet, to Quinn, as if confirming that she’s still there, she’s still watching.

And oh, she is.

“Arms up,” Ashe says, and Sejuani’s eyes are torn quickly back up to her Queen. She lifts her hands, still bound in their wrist cuffs, above her head. With ruthless efficiency, Ashe ties her wrists to the posts at the head of the bed. “What a good girl. Would you like to earn the privilege of putting your mouth on me?”

Sejuani whines and nods.

Ashe chuckles.

“You’re going to have to work for it. Legs apart, now.”

Sejuani plants her heels as far apart on the bed as they’ll go, and Quinn stares hungrily from her vantage point. She imagines crawling up onto that bed and between those thighs and pressing her lips to Sejuani’s slick, unprotected need. How good it would be to feel Sejuani shudder under her at the sudden hot contact.

Fuck. Fuck! Being tied to the chair and forced to watch is a torment like she’s never known.

While she’s been staring, Ashe has been to the drawer again. She returns with more cuffs, this time destined for Sejuani’s ankles, and has them on in short order. Quinn feels shivers of anticipation run through her body just from the sound of the buckles being pulled tight. Ashe binds Sejuani’s feet to the posts at the bottom of the bed, stretching her out spread-eagle, and Quinn feels like her own thumping heart must be in perfect time with the rapid rise and fall of Sejuani’s breathing.

Ashe has another implement in her hands now. Sejuani hasn’t seen it, but Quinn has. It’s a long, thin wooden rod; a switch. Positioning herself near her lover’s knees, Ashe smiles darkly and then touches a bare thigh very lightly with the switch. Sejuani flinches at the contact, and then groans as she realizes what it is.

“You’re going to take as much as I feel like giving out,” Ashe says, and Sejuani’s gagged reply is a whining, pathetic wheeze. Ironically, Quinn thinks, she seems to actually be _more_ vocal with the rubber bit between her teeth. “And when I’m satisfied that you’ve proved how obedient you are, I’ll reward you by using your mouth.” Sejuani nods rapidly, her eyes squeezing shut.

Quinn’s toes curl as Ashe lines up the first strike.

She hits hard, the switch making contact with the flesh of Sejuani’s thigh with a loud _crack_. The woman clenches up and whimpers.

“Lie flat,” Ashe says, mercilessly.

Sejuani makes another noise and complies, forcing her limbs to relax, chest still rising and falling with her heavy breathing.

Then Ashe continues.

Sejuani cries out with every strike now; whether it’s because this switch hurts more than the flogger, or because she has the gag in, or because she’s deeper into her submission, Quinn can’t tell – it could easily be all three, or something else entirely.

What she does know is that it’s fucking _hot_.

Ashe’s strikes reach a steady tempo, a pulsing _crack, crack, crack, crack_ that alternates from one thigh to the other. Red welts start to raise on pale skin, and a whole-body tremble slowly claims Sejuani. The harder hits get louder, sharper noises, and Quinn can’t look away. Ashe hasn’t turned her attention towards her at all in a while, engrossed in what she’s doing, and that somehow only makes it better, only emphasizes the erotic sense of intrusion, of spying on something she’s not meant to see.

After a particularly resonant _CRACK_ and an equally loud wordless shout of pain, Ashe pauses. She strokes cruel fingertips down the tender lines along Sejuani’s legs.

“How are you doing, girl?” she asks, smug.

Sejuani’s answer is a flustered, insensible noise.

“Is that right?” Ashe purrs, all cold condescension.

Sejuani swallows so hard that Quinn can hear it.

“Hurts, doesn’t it dear?”

Sejuani nods, dazed.

Ashe’s fingers stroke along her thigh, and then start to go in towards her center. Sejuani’s legs suddenly become tense again.

“You like how it hurts, don’t you? Like showing how much you can take for me.” Sejuani nods quickly, and Ashe glides a finger against her, parting her down the middle and stroking along her clit. Sejuani tosses her head back and grunts through a caught breath. “Such an eager thing you are.”

Ashe pulls her hand away and Sejuani makes a strangled sound of frustration.

And then Ashe reaches in and grabs her by the strap of her gag, holding her firmly.

“That better not have been a complaint,” Ashe warns. Sejuani shakes her head desperately as far as it will turn side to side in her Queen’s clutches, clenches and unclenches her fists. “No? It sounded like one to me. Maybe I won’t give you the pleasure of eating me out. I think you need to be reminded that your desires are irrelevant.”

Sejuani swallows hard again, but for once is silent. Quinn wouldn’t dare make a noise after that threat, either.

Ashe stares her down a moment longer, then releases the strap of the gag.

She turns away from Sejuani and takes the switch back to the drawer, where she exchanges it for something with an entirely different purpose.

Quinn exhales a sudden harsh breath as her eyes fall on the harness and the heavy, solid phallus that hangs from its embrace. She looks to see if Sejuani’s noticed it yet, but the woman’s eyes are firmly on the ceiling. It isn’t until Ashe is beside her again that she looks over and her whole body reacts with eager trepidation to the sight of the strap-on.

Ashe sets the whole thing between Sejuani’s knees, and then begins to slowly, teasingly work her way out of her clothes. Even now, she doesn’t so much as glance at Quinn, which makes the sense of the forbidden fill her mouth with saliva as Quinn stares almost sheepishly. She’s meant to look at Sejuani, but does that mean she’s allowed to look at Ashe?

For another sampling of her perfect breasts, smooth stomach, enticing hips, gorgeous legs? Quinn will take the risk. The dress pools at her feet and she’s left in her undergarments. Quinn lobbies all the gods for her to take those off, too, but she doesn’t, and instead climbs onto the bed and straddles Sejuani.

And _oh,_ the underwear isn’t so terrible from this angle. Ashe just so happens to be wearing a silky black piece that is little more than a string in the back, and wow her ass is incredible.

Sejuani’s face is blocked now by Ashe’s back – which Quinn dances her eyes over, enjoying the shadows along her spine and under her shoulder blades, the way her moonlight-white hair drapes against her naked skin – so Quinn can’t watch her reaction as Ashe picks up the harness again and buckles it on over her own hips.

The dark leather against the skin of Ashe’s waist and thighs makes for an elegant contrast.

“I bet you’d like this inside of you, wouldn’t you?” Ashe purrs, kneeling between Sejuani’s legs, bent down to kiss her chest. Sejuani whimpers again, and Quinn wonders if Ashe has the length of it pressed against her. “You won’t be so eager for me to fuck you when you understand what the rule is.”

Ashe’s hips hinge forward is a slow thrust and Sejuani inhales loudly.

“The rule is that you are absolutely forbidden from coming.” Quinn wishes she could see the look on Sejuani’s face as Ashe says that. “I’m going to be fucking you for my own pleasure, and not for yours. If you come, you won’t be allowed to get off for the next two weeks. You understand me, girl?”

Sejuani moans gutturally, and the sound is shortly followed by the rustle of fabric that must be her urgent nod of compliance.

“Good,” Ashe says. Then she crawls back off of Sejuani, and methodically undoes all of her wrist and ankle restraints.

“On your hands and knees, facing the end of the bed.”

Quinn can’t leap for joy, being tied to a chair, but her heart makes its best effort within the confines of her chest. Although she certainly wouldn’t have complained about _any_ situation in which she gets to watch Ashe fucking Sejuani, seeing it from this angle will be way better than just watching Ashe’s beautiful butt bobbing from behind.

As Sejuani moves into position, rough fingers gripping tight at the edge of the mattress, weight on her elbows and knees, Ashe acknowledges Quinn again for the first time in a while.

Smiling and looking at Quinn, she reaches out and grabs a fistful of Sejuani’s hair, pulling her head to force her chin up.

“You’re forbidden from closing your eyes or looking away. Quinn is going to watch you get fucked, and I want you to look her right in the eye every moment of it.”

Sejuani gasps, her eyebrows bunching together in a pleading expression, seeming almost overwhelmed by the order. Quinn looks from Ashe to her, forging that highly charged connection, and watches Sejuani’s breath hike in response. Fffuuuuck she’s so turned on by this whole thing.

Ashe observes the exchange with a self-satisfied smile, the master puppeteer of this evening. Then she retrieves a tin from the bedside table and takes a daub of what Quinn assumes is some kind of lube, smearing it thickly onto the sizable shaft jutting from her lovely, lovely hips. She climbs up onto the bed and positions herself behind Sejuani.

The sight is the best one of the night so far, Ashe smirking behind Sejuani, stroking her cock with deft hands and preparing to take her, Sejuani obediently, desperately keeping her eyes on Quinn, so clearly turned on beyond any reason by the fact that she’s about to get fucked while Quinn watches.

Ashe takes Sejuani’s hip in one hand, lines up with the other.

Sejuani’s lips curl around the bit of her gag, a soft, small sound of fear escaping her. Quinn watches her throat bob as she swallows, and then watches her whole face contort in pain and ecstasy as Ashe starts to press herself in.

It’s unlike anything else, Sejuani’s face in this moment, this blend of shame and terror and joy and freedom and surrender and thrill and arousal and vulnerability. Quinn fixes it in her mind forever. She’s not sure she’ll ever see anything this hot ever again in her lifetime.

Sejuani moans as Ashe eases in, the front of her thighs to the back of Sejuani’s. Her eyes close for the smallest moment and then they jerk open again, remembering her orders. Having Sejuani look directly at her adds so much to this – for all of them, Quinn suspects.

And then Ashe begins to fuck her in earnest, thrusting slowly at first, then harder and faster. Quinn looks away from Sejuani to regard Ashe’s magnificent face, caught somewhere between concentration and pleasure. The way she’s grinding her hips to the pace of her own slight facial contortions makes Quinn sure she’s genuinely getting off on this, genuinely getting physical pleasure from the rubbing of the base against her.

Quinn looks back to Sejuani, meets her eyes and watches her suffer from a fresh shock of embarrassed arousal at the renewed stare. Quinn bites her lower lip, near to trembling with her own mounting need, and pulls a bit at her wrist cuffs. Fuck, she wants to touch herself. How could she let herself get into a situation where she can’t even masturbate while this is happening?

Not that she’s unhappy, really.

Her groin throbs with how very, very not unhappy she is.

Ashe starts thrusting harder, slamming into Sejuani and making her gasp with every buck of her hips.

“Don’t you dare come,” Ashe growls, “ _don’t you dare come_.” From the way her composure is starting to fray at the edges, Quinn would guess she’s well on the way to coming herself.

Sejuani gets louder through her gag, her throaty groans taking on a pleading note. Quinn looks to her eyes again, still obediently locked on Quinn’s face, and her expression is so overwhelmed and so desperate that just seeing it makes Quinn swallow hard.

“That’s it,” Ashe utters, jagged thrusts coming at a steady beat, “that’s a good girl, take it for me, don’t you come, don’t you dare come.”

Sejuani is only getting louder. Her gaze becomes hooded. She looks like she’s close.

Quinn might feel just the tiniest bit bad if Sejuani is denied orgasms for the next two weeks because she couldn’t hold on through this brutal pounding.

Just as she’s starting to get the tell-tale glassy look and tremble in her legs, Ashe pulls out, panting.

With frantic, urgent moments, she unbuckles the harness, sets it off to the side, pulls her underwear off.

“On your back, girl,” Ashe snarls, and Sejuani shakily collects herself and rolls over, on her back with her head at the foot of the bed. “Good girl,” Ashe says, “my good girl,” and then climbs onto her, sitting on her chest. With another surge of throbbing to her groin, Quinn spies the wet gleam between Ashe’s thighs before she bends over and gets to work unfastening Sejuani’s gag.

No sooner than she has it off and tossed to the floor, Ash sets her legs on either side of Sejuani’s face, and lowers herself onto her lover’s mouth.

Sejuani throws herself into the task with delicious abandon, eyes crushed shut and neck straining slightly, barely visible between Ashe’s thighs. Ashe grabs Sejuani’s hair and throws her own head back, gyrating her hips in time with Sejuani’s hardworking mouth.

Quinn exhales a long, shuddering breath, her own hips rocking to the motion of the couple fucking in front of her. Desperately, so desperately she wants there to be a hand down her pants – hers, Ashe’s, anybody’s - !

Ashe gasps as Sejuani hits her stride, her face pulsing forward with regular movements, pressed hard against her, buried in her Queen, all of her dedicated and eager movements obscured, visible only in the way they make Ashe shake and grab harder at her hair.

“Good girl,” Ashe gasps, “good girl, good girl. Don’t you stop, don’t you dare stop.” Quinn takes in the sight of her, riding Sejuani’s face oblivious to the world, trying very much to maintain the illusion of total control but also coming closer to the edge of release that makes that kind of control impossible.

Sejuani’s hands, still framed by the dark cuffs if not, at the moment, bound to anything, come up and grip at the tops of Ashe’s thighs. With a burst of intensity, Sejuani crushes her face against the slamming of her Queen’s pelvis. Quinn can see the muscles of her jaw working from the spot behind her ear, and not much else.

On top of her, Ashe swears and starts to shake harder. Wetness trickles down Sejuani’s neck. Quinn whines quietly in her seat, fingers clenched tightly together inside her inescapable leather mitts.

Ashe goes silent for the height of her orgasm, pulling Sejuani’s hair hard and arching her back. The tremors run through her entire body; it’s a sight that Quinn has been fortunate enough to see before, but never so beautifully laid out in full before her like this, a portrait of a powerful ruler in the moment of climax.

And then it’s over.

Panting, Ashe relaxes her hands in Sejuani’s hair, draws away from her face. Quinn’s mouth, hanging open, feels dry.

Fuck fuck fuck this is so hot.

Ashe shakily collects herself, sitting back on Sejuani’s chest, shutting her eyes tight and forcing her breathing to slow.

Sejuani looks up at her, slickly wet from neck to nose, a small smile on her face even through her own heavy panting. Ashe looks down, spots the smile, and leans in to kiss Sejuani.

Quinn almost wants to turn her eyes away. It’s the sort of kiss she definitely feels is too intimate to be stared at – but they invited her here specifically to watch, didn’t they? Uncertain, her attention flickers away from them very briefly, for the first time since this started.

“Did you come?” Ashe asks, softly.

“No, my Queen,” Sejuani answers croakily.

“Good girl.”

Quinn looks back up at them and to her surprise Ashe is looking right at her.

“You’ve been quiet,” Ashe says, that smirking poise back in her posture.

Pinned to the spot, Quinn swallows.

“Yes, my Queen,” she says, feeling her ability to think draining away under the scrutiny of those eyes. “I – I’m only here to watch, my Queen.”

“That’s right,” Ashe says, rolling off of Sejuani, slipping off the bed and getting to her feet easily and elegantly. She walks towards Quinn with menace in every step. “You’re here to be used as I feel like using you, and nothing more. Did you forget that?”

Fear, blisteringly sexual fear, races through Quinn.

“No, my Queen.”

“Do you think I didn’t notice you rubbing your legs together? Moving your hips? Trying to pleasure yourself?”

Quinn’s breath catches and she drops her eyes guiltily. She’d thought she’d gotten away with it.

“Watching turns you on, doesn’t it Quinn?”

The use of her name is another bolt of terrified pleasure between her legs.

“Yes, my Queen,” she mumbles.

“So much so, I bet you’d have been touching yourself if I hadn’t taken measures against it. Isn’t that right, girl?”

Quinn makes the mistake of glancing up at Ashe’s eyes, and they cut her to her core. She doesn’t dare lie.

“Yes, my Queen,” she confesses reluctantly.

“You want so badly to be involved, maybe I’ll give you that gift.” The fire roars to life inside of her. This is too good to be true. “Maybe I’ll show you just how talented my girl’s mouth is. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Quinn whispers urgently, “yes my Queen.”

“I thought so.” Ashe smirks, and goosebumps prickle across Quinn’s back. She turns and looks back at Sejuani, lying on her back where Ashe left her, perfectly still. “I think you still have some work to do to prove that you deserve to be allowed to come tonight.” Sejuani swallows, huffs a small whine, but doesn’t offer any protest. “Come here, girl.”

Quinn’s blood thumps hard in her veins as the attention in the room turns to her, Sejuani rising and coming down off the bed to kneel obediently in front of her. She thinks about the fervour with which Sejuani applied herself to bringing Ashe to orgasm and imagines that dedicated mouth pressed against her own clit.

Fuck, fuck, fuck she can’t wait.

Ashe smirks, touching Sejuani’s neck idly, and the woman responds by sitting straighter, arms behind her back, chest out. Quinn finds herself thinking how lucky Sejuani is, to have Ashe as a lover – how lucky Ashe is, in that same thought, to have Sejuani as hers.

Speaking of Ashe, where is she going?

She’s returned to the bed, and is picking up the harness. When she comes back towards where Quinn sits and Sejuani kneels, Quinn looks at her with a puzzled expression. She’s not sure she understands how that toy will factor into this.

“What, you didn’t think you’d actually get _touched_ , did you?” Ashe chuckles, her smile without mercy. Quinn looks at her blankly, not comprehending.

And then Ashe leans in and settles the harness against Quinn’s crotch. “Hips up,” she instructs, and with a groan of lament, Quinn obeys, finally understanding as Ashe attaches the harness to her.

“I said you’d get to experience the talent of her mouth. But I’m certainly not going to reward your misbehaviour by having my girl actually _touch_ you.” Quinn fights the urge to squirm. The stiff cock now protruding from between her legs is relatively heavy; maybe the pressure of it against her will come close to some kind of relief from this torture. “Tell me what you’re here to do.”

“Watch,” Quinn says shakily, “I’m here to watch, my Queen.”

“Exactly. Sejuani, love. Show her how you use your mouth, while all she can do is watch.”

It is undeniably one of the most exquisite things Quinn has ever seen when Sejuani brings her lips to the tip of the toy and without any sort of reluctance or reservation takes the head in her mouth, treating it with the kind of reverent dedication she did her Queen’s actual flesh-and-blood genitals.

If only it were real, Quinn thinks, if only she could feel this.

But beneath the harness, her own need pounds loudly. Even the slight friction created by Sejuani pressing her mouth down, taking in more, is incredible after so long with nothing. She wishes her hands were free to grip Sejuani’s hair, but at the same time, getting sucked off while strapped down is pretty fucking hot too.

She swallows and her eye slip closed, but they snap open when Ashe murmurs her name in a low, threatening tone.

“Watch,” Ashe commands, and so Quinn does.

Sejuani’s lips are relaxed although her mouth is stretched around the girth of the toy. She’s done this before, Quinn assumes, from her comfort with it, from her eagerness. She’s using the movements of her tongue and jaw, again, as if Quinn can feel every stroke.

In a way, she can – the motion of her head translates into a muted pulse of pressure against her clit, so it’s certainly not wasted on her, even if it’s not as direct or as intense as she would have liked.

She realizes that the dildo is still coated in Sejuani’s own wetness, that she’s tasting herself right now and is probably sharply aware of it.

“There’s my good girl,” Ashe purrs, “keep at it.”

Sejuani works a little harder in response to the encouragement, and Quinn bites her lower lip hard, desperately fighting the impulse to thrust her hips into the movement. She is absolutely, one hundred perfect confident she’ll be in trouble if she does. If she has any ambitions of physical satisfaction tonight, she’s got to stay perfectly still and take what she can get.

So she sits as still as she can, enduring the glorious sight of Sejuani enthusiastically going down on the strap on she’s wearing. It feels good, it feels damn good. Everything about it is so good – the look of concentration on Sejuani’s face, the way the shadows play on her face as her jaw works, the sound of her breathing through her nose, the slick noise of her mouth gliding up and down.

“Fuck,” Quinn groans, as the pleasure builds slowly and steadily from both the physical stimulation and the intellectual stimulation. This is _Sejuani_. The terror of the Freljord. Between her knees, sucking her cock. She could come just from that alone.

“That’s enough,” Ashe says, far, far too soon, and Sejuani pulls away.

“Please,” Quinn blurts, “please don’t stop, please, my Queen.”

“Don’t be greedy,” Ashe chuckles, and Quinn’s heart falls. She’s really serious about this, isn’t she? She’s going to leave Quinn a horny, unfucked mess. “Take the harness off of her, dear,” she says, and Sejuani obeys. Quinn watches her strong, calloused hands work to undo the buckles, her imagination suddenly flashing to what it would feel like to have those fingers gripping hard against her lower back as Sejuani, wearing the strap-on, fucks her into the mattress.

She swallows and shivers.

Sejuani finishes her task and pulls the harness away, leaving Quinn hungry and deprived, even more riled up than she was before, and even less optimistic about her odds of getting off any time soon.

“Good girl,” Ashe says, “Put it away and then get up onto the bed for me.”

Sejuani takes the harness back to the bedside table. Ashe looms over Quinn still, smiling. She doesn’t say anything for a while, but Quinn has no words, no thoughts – not when Ashe in full command mode is radiating her masterful presence so potently in her direction.

“See?” Ashe says, finally, snaring Quinn’s gaze with her own. “You do know how to control yourself.”

Quinn wheezes a slow, needy exhale, unable to look away, unable to speak.

“You were very good. I think I’ll reward you.”

Quinn’s insides sing their approval. She doesn’t know what form the reward will take, doesn’t care. Reward is good, and good means something hot.

“Thank you, my Queen,” she says quickly, aching to touched.

Ashe only smiles at her.

Behind them, Sejuani climbs up onto the bed. Ashe tosses her a glance.

“Good girl. I’ll be right there in a moment.”

Then she reaches for the cuff of Quinn’s right wrist, and in two thumping heartbeats has her hand free, pulling it out of the case of leather. The other she leaves bound, although with one hand free Quinn could easily just unbuckle it herself – not that she would, of course.

Ashe smirks at her.

“You have permission to touch yourself.”

“Thank you,” Quinn breathes, “thank you, my Queen. I – may I – am I allowed to come?”

The smirk broadens.

“What a good girl for asking. Yes, you may.” She straightens, and then fixes Quinn with that intense look again. “Don’t start until I tell you to.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Then she returns to Sejuani where she’s been waiting obediently on the bed, pressing against her and kissing her. This is a kiss Quinn has no hesitation watching; it’s ferocious and possessive and sexual, and Sejuani is already so turned on by this point that a kiss like this is all it takes to have her whimpering against Ashe’s mouth.

Ashe climbs up onto the bed behind her and has Sejuani kneel facing Quinn, legs parted and ass resting against her feet. She swiftly binds Sejuani’s wrist cuffs together, in front of her, so that there’s nothing between Sejuani’s back and Ashe’s front when she presses against her.

“You’ve been so good for me,” she murmurs to Sejuani. “I want you to do one more thing for me tonight.”

Sejuani shuts her eyes.

“Anything, my Queen.”

“Good girl,” Ashe whispers, kissing her ear. “You’re going to come for me, and you’re going to do it while Quinn watches and touches herself.”

The shiver runs through Sejuani’s entire body.

“Yes, my Queen,” she says, and her eyes flick up to Quinn, and there’s that expression again – heady and turned on, just a slight edge of humiliation at how very much she gets off on it.

Quinn watches Ashe’s hands slide around Sejuani, one going up, one going down, one finding her nipple, one finding her clit. Sejuani inhales sharply, bucks her hips just a little. Ashe makes eye contact with Quinn over Sejuani’s shoulder.

“Start,” Ashe says, and the command is shock of fresh desire on top of the tense need she’s already suffering from. In an instant Quinn’s hand is down her pants, her fingers rubbing furiously at her own clit. She’s aware that Sejuani’s eyes are on her, and she returns the stare shamelessly, losing herself entirely to her arousal and the sweet bliss of real stimulation. God, it feels so _good_ after being denied it for so long.

A mirror image, Ashe’s fingers set to work on Sejuani, who is still very much turned on, the proof of it in the effortless glide of those elegant fingertips. Sejuani’s eyes scrunch shut, her face twisted tight in pleasure. Her lips part, her nostrils flare, and she tilts her head back, up to the sky. A low moan escapes her, and the sound makes Quinn rub herself faster, another plucking note of arousal in this complex symphony of things that make Quinn wet.

“That’s right,” Ashe murmurs, hands working viciously, “I want you to come for me, girl.”

Sejuani makes a sound high in her throat that might have been some sort of affirmative.

“Thank you,” she groans, “thank you, thank you my Queen, thank you.”

“Shhhh,” says Ashe, never stopping, face stern and unyielding, impassive. “There’s a good girl.”

Quinn picks up the pace even more, sliding her middle finger down between her lips where she’s slick with desire, coating her finger and bringing it back up to go harder with less friction.

“Fuck,” she mutters, watching with delight as Sejuani tosses her hips and struggles to keep still as Ashe pushes her closer and closer to the edge.

“Oh please,” Sejuani gasps, “please may I,” as she starts to tremble already.

“Hold on just a little longer for me,” Ashe says, cupping her hand against Sejuani and never slowing the movement of her fingers, following her as she jerks erratically under the touch.

“I’m so close, my Queen,” Sejuani says, her voice gravelly and weak, like someone recovering from an illness.

Quinn feels her own orgasm coming up on her, building rapidly now that she can finally actually do something about how desperately horny she is. Even if she wanted to draw it out and make it last a little longer, she’s so damn turned on, so lost in the pure erotic mindlessness of everything, she couldn’t slow down if she tried.

On and on, up and up, always watching, always basking in the pleasure of observation, of participating as an outsider, privy to the private gasps and groans, hoarding stolen glimpses of the bodies beneath the clothes, the lovers beneath the rulers –

It’s so much, it’s so much –

Sejuani gasps with each of Ashe’s downward strokes, her whole body shaking. She manages to mouth the words to beg for release, a _please_ in each battered, fragile, helpless exhale.

_Please, please, please, please._

“Come for me,” Ashe says, and Quinn drinks it in as Sejuani careens over the edge, arching back against her Queen, jaw clenching hard, her face going bright red, her chest, her arms, all flushed vividly. Her wrists are pulled tight against the cuffs holding them together, her biceps taut and flexing. Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous and coming hard with the knowledge that Quinn is watching, and fuck, fuck –

Quinn, never closing her eyes, biting hard on her lower lip, straining against the straps around her torso and ankles, rushes to join her, and soon is launched headfirst over her own personal edge.

The orgasm hits like somebody dropped a horse on her, so hard she swears for a second she goes blind and all sound but the thumping of her own heart recedes from her perception. It lasts so long – might even have lasted longer if her hand hadn’t gone uselessly slack towards the end of it there.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

With shaking limbs, Quinn peels her eyes back open.

Ashe is sitting, her legs over the edge of the bed, Sejuani’s head in her lap, stroking Sejuani’s hair.

Fuck. What a good night. Fuck.

She takes in one slow breath to stabilize herself. Her whole body is pulsing. She rubs her face with the back of her free hand, then catches Ashe’s eye.

“Is it okay if I…?” she gestures to her still-bound wrist.

Ashe laughs softly and smiles, all the coldness gone from her.

“Yes, go ahead.”

Quinn works the buckle open one-handed, and then with both her hands free easily undoes the remaining straps. She leaves them on the floor where they fall and stays seated, for a moment.

“Holy fuck,” she murmurs.

“You alright?” Ashe asks, still stroking Sejuani’s hair.

“Yeah,” Quinn says, then swears again. “That was… wow.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Quinn can’t help but laugh at the understatement. Ashe looks down at the woman whose face is in her lap, carding her fingers through snowy hair. “And you, love? Did you enjoy yourself?”

Sejuani wordlessly curls into a tighter ball and hides her eyes against Ashe’s legs, the back of her neck going red.

Quinn just barely hears the embarrassed “yes” that she mutters against her lover.

“Good,” Ashe says, smiling softly.

They fall into a comfortable silence. Quinn feels herself smiling too, but with the heat of the moment gone, she’s getting the sense that sooner or later, these two lovebirds will want to be alone again. Never one to overstay her welcome, Quinn gets unsteadily to her feet and offers them both a grin.

“Probably time for me to get back to my room then, yeah?”

“You can stay for a while, if you like,” Ashe says, and sounds like she means it. “She needs a moment or two to recover, but there’s a jug of mead tucked away in one of those cupboards. We can catch up before you go to bed; I’m sure you’ve got stories you’re not supposed to tell in hearing range of the stiff Demacian diplomats you brought with you.”

Ashe is sweet. She’s always been attentive when it comes to aftercare and the different flavours it can come in.

“If I wouldn’t be imposing,” Quinn says.

“You should stay,” Sejuani says, rolling over to look at her, the moment of sheepishness gone. “At least until you’re tired.”

Quinn smiles, surprised but pleased to see her self-consciousness melt away a little. It would be a little silly, she guesses, to be insecure around someone who’s looked you in the eye while your lover fucks you from behind.

“Sure,” Quinn says, stretching her legs. “Where’s that mead, then?”


End file.
